


Holiday Plans

by DualWieldingCousland (DualWieldingMama)



Series: Starting Over [14]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:38:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6046828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualWieldingMama/pseuds/DualWieldingCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Satinalia is getting closer.  Parties are being planned.  Alistair’s brother makes contact, much to his dismay.  And Regan still gives him butterflies, even after all this time.  Oh, and some familiar faces make an appearance again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday Plans

“It’ll be fun.”

Alistair just made a noise as if to say he didn’t quite believe her.

“Oh, stop.  It’s not like you don’t already know 90-percent of the people who would be there.”

He simply grunted into the phone and leaned against the door to the small break room in the mall, still not answering.  He knew he’d give in, eventually.  He didn’t even mind it, really.  But it was a little entertaining watching … or in this case, listening to, her try to come up with ways to convince him.  It also didn’t help that there were other people in the room, so he couldn’t be too talkative.

“Ok, it probably _won’t_ be fun.  But your boss is paying for the party and it will look _really_ bad if you don’t show up.”  Regan smirked into the phone, shaking her head.  “I’m sure you can sneak out early if it’s dull.  Just make sure your boss sees you there and having fun, first.”  This was one of those things that made her really glad that her employer was her brother.  He knew better than to try and throw office parties for the holidays.  Or, at least he knew better than to try and convince her to go, right now.

“Tell you what,” Alistair countered, fiddling with the small wrapped box he’d picked up when he started his break.  A small part of him worried that she’d hate it.  With the exception of the Cousland laurel necklace he’d given her, he never really saw her wearing much in the way of jewelry, expensive or otherwise, and it wasn’t that this was even _that_ expensive.  It was just that … this was their first Satinalia as an actual _couple_ , and he wanted it to be … well, special.  “I’ll go, _if_ you go as my date.”

“You want _me_ to go with you to your office Satinalia party?”  Was she hearing him right?  Sure, they’d been dating long enough now that everyone he worked with knew who she was.  He had made sure of that after the whole ordeal with Mhairi.  And she _did_ get along well with most of them.  But still ….  “Are you sure?”

Alistair grinned.  It would be a small victory, but he’d take what he could get.  He was well aware who the more persuasive of the pair was.  And it wasn’t him.  He could practically hear the wheels turning in her head and wished that he was back at the apartment having this conversation instead of on his lunch break.  “I’m sure.  That’s my price.  Take it or leave it.”

There was a pause … a minute or two of dead air before she sighed.  It was an over-exaggerated and quite obviously not serious sigh.  “Fine; I’ll be your date.  But I am _not_ dressing up any more than I absolutely have to.”

“Fair enough.”  He felt a small stomach flutter as he thought back to their first … well, what he considered their first date.  She may not have thought of it as such, but he couldn’t help it.  “Do you remember the outfit you wore when I … well, when I surprised you for your birthday that first time?”  With her affirmative response, he broke into a smile.  At least the room had emptied out sometime during their conversation.  “Do … you think you could wear that?”

“I … suppose so.”

“Perfect.  Now all I have to do is figure out what dish to bring … and maybe get your help with my secret santa gift.”

“Oh?  Who’d you draw that _I’d_ know better than you what to get?”

“Sten.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“You mean you haven’t even _met_ his family yet?”

“We’ve _talked_ about it, but … well, I think he’s kind of embarrassed by them?”  Regan Cousland shrugged as she pulled yet another strand of garland from a box.  “The last time he mentioned them, it was to lament that his brother’s idea of a birthday surprise for him was a trip to _Cailan’s_ favorite restaurant and then The Pearl.”  She climbed onto a nearby chair and stretched to hang the garland across the opening to the dining area.  “Not that there’s anything _wrong_ with The Pearl, I suppose.  Alistair just … Alistair’s always said it’s not his kind of place?”

“Isn’t The Pearl that “nightclub” downtown; the one the city guard raids every few months because of reports of prostitution?”

“That’s the one.”

“Do they at least _know_ about you?”  Regan Trevelyan watched her friend carefully.  Neither was particularly known for their grace, and the red-head’s current position of one foot on the back of the chair, the other on the seat was … precarious, to say the least.  The last thing they needed was one of them to end up in the hospital right before the holiday.

“I’ve … spoken to them once or twice.”  Cousland teetered a bit as the chair started to lean forward.  She was nearly done; just had to loop the garland over one more hook.  “So they know I exist.  I’m pretty sure Alistair’s at least mentioned that he was dating someone.”  

“Maker’s ass, woman; he better not be keeping you a secret from them.  If he’s one of those slimeballs that is embarrassed to be seen with you ….”

“Why would anyone be embarrassed to be seen with her?”  Cullen walked into the room carrying an armful of boxes from the car.  His hair was curlier than Cousland remembered, left untamed on one of his few days off.  “She seems like a nice enough sort … and almost as lovely as you, dear wife.”

“Most men don’t share your … refined tastes in women, dear husband.”  Trevelyan leaned in for a quick kiss as she took the top two boxes from him.  She looked back over at her friend and sighed.  “You’ve said most of your dates are spent in one of your apartments watching movies.  Are you sure it’s not because he doesn’t want people to see the two of you together?”

“We go out.”  Cousland frowned as she hopped off the chair.  She grabbed a box from Cullen as well and flipped the lid open.  “He’s usually the one who wants to go _out_ places.  We stay in a lot … well, because I ask to.”  She pulled out a round mass of red and white fabric and grinned.  “Remember when Mom’s mabari pups would burrow under this thing when we came to visit?”  

“I think that’s how Gabriel ended up with a mabari that year.”  Trevelyan laughed at the memory.  “You _cannot_ convince me your mother didn’t leave one behind on purpose.”

“What?  Ten puppies can be hard to keep track of.”  Cousland smiled angelically before dropping to her knees to wrap the fabric around the base of the tree.  “Besides, you _know_ Gabe adores that puppy.  His Satinalia cards _always_ have a picture of Dragon in the snow.”

“Well, you two _are_ coming next weekend, right?”  Cullen grabbed hold of part of the tree from the largest box he’d been carrying and pulled it free.  He groaned as a few tiny synthetic nettles fluttered to the floor.  This would likely be the last Satinalia for his poor old tree.  But it had had a good run – two years with his family, then five with him before he and Regan got married the previous year.  He waited until his wife disappeared into the other room before leaning over to whisper, “You know she’ll never give you a moment’s peace if you don’t show up.”

“We’ll be there,” Cousland assured him.  “After the last couple months, we could use a bit of fun.  We just may be a little late.  It’s the same day as his office’s party and we have to at least make an appearance there.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     

“So what was so important that you couldn’t talk to me about it over the phone?”  Alistair was less than amused as he slid into the seat across from his half-brother and a pair of advisors.  Cailan _knew_ he disliked The Pearl; he always had.  It just … wasn’t his type of place.  But for some reason, the elder Theirin insisted on meeting there whenever he wanted to talk with Alistair.

“Succession stuff.”  Cailan spoke so off-handedly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  He motioned for the waitress to bring more drinks.  “I’m thinking of leaving Anora.”  His tone was matter-of-fact … almost bored, even.  His advisors had been hounding him for almost a year about the lack of children produced, and this was just the simplest solution.  Theirs had been a marriage more of convenience, anyway; it wasn’t like she actually _loved_ him.

Alistair nearly dropped his glass, only barely managing to catch it before it fell from his fingers.  Whatever he had expected Cailan to say, _that_ wasn’t it.  “You … what?”  He looked over at the two men sitting on either side of the blonde, but they remained decidedly mute on the subject.

Cailan shrugged elegantly, putting on a show for the waitress as she brought over two new glasses of wine.  “It’s just time.  She hasn’t produced children and … the advisors are worried about what will happen if none come along.  So they tell me I’ll need to find another wife … and quickly.”  He tossed his hair _just so_ , making sure the room’s light hit him in such a way that his hair … and eyes … sparkled as yet another attractive woman strolled by their table.  “I hear the Couslands’ youngest has been living in Denerim for a while now.”

“Have you even _tried_ with …?”  Not that his brother’s personal life with his wife was something he really _wanted_ to know about.  But he knew Cailan and Anora rarely spent time out of the public eye together.  Sure, he always had some sort of excuse for it, but … if you had any hope of actually producing a child, you had to at least _try_ , right?  Wait … what had Cailan just …?  The off-hand comment almost flew by; the mention of Regan’s family name only barely registering with Alistair over the shock of his other announcement.  Why did he _care_ that she’d been living in Denerim?  What did that have … to … do …with …?  Oh, no.  No, no, no … he _couldn’t_ mean to ….

“We have suggested that Cailan invite the young Miss Cousland to the annual Theirin Satinalia party.”  The man to the right of Cailan spoke with a distinctly clipped tone, as if unhappy to even be speaking of such things.  Or maybe it was the fact that they were discussing it with Maric’s bastard; Alistair couldn’t be sure.

The other agreed.  “It would be the perfect place to suggest such a … bonding.  What woman would refuse a _Theirin_ during such an event?”

“We have already sent an invitation to her brother in Highever.  There is no listing for Miss Cousland in town, but surely he can deliver the message.”

Alistair nearly choked on his drink.  Surely they weren’t serious.  Cailan wouldn’t _seriously_ leave Anora for … to try for _his_ Regan, right?  Sure, none of them _knew_ he was seeing the youngest Cousland.  All Cailan knew was that some girl named Regan had answered his phone at some rather … late hours.  Given the way they were referring to her as ‘ _Miss Cousland_ ’, he figured they didn’t even know her first name.  “I … I don’t ….”  Shit; he should just tell them.  Come out and say ‘ _Her boyfriend is sitting across the table from you!_ ’.  But they wouldn’t believe him, would they?  Cailan certainly wouldn’t.  

“You’ll come too, of course.”  Cailan smiled and downed his glass of wine without noticing that Alistair hadn’t even _touched_ his.  He’d invited his brother year after year, and not once had Alistair actually shown up.  He’d blamed work, of course, and it was a logical excuse.  He held out little hope that Alistair would actually show up this time.  “You can even bring a date … that girl who’s always answering your phone, maybe?”

“She’s not _always_ answering ….”  He forced a laugh, shaking his head half-heartedly.  “I just might.”  That’d be one way to get Cailan to leave her alone, at least.  If he _saw_ her with Alistair … saw the two of them together … how close they were … surely he’d forget this stupid idea to try and woo her.  Maker’s breath, how was he going to explain _this_ to her?  Would she even be _willing_ to go?  “As long as it’s not the same day as work’s party, I don’t see why I wouldn’t make it.”

“Perfect.  I look forward to meeting this mystery woman of yours.”  Cailan reached over and plucked up Alistair’s glass.  No sense in letting good wine go to waste.  His brother never did have much of a taste for the finer beverages.  “I’ll make sure to send you the information this evening.  I trust email will be sufficient?”  


End file.
